Chail said: ‘It’s why Donald is with me, isn’t it? He’d heard of developments here – well, of course he had – and thought he recognized an opportunity, an opportunity best taken advantage of in a cooperative, decent, orderly fashion. No violence, no scramble. That’s the nub of Don’s approach. I endorse it, of course.’

  ‘Well, OK,’ Margaret said. ‘Thanks very much. We do appreciate your position. Forgive the slight frostiness you thought you might have detected earlier on. We see that as regrettable now, I assure you, felt by both Ralph and myself. I’d like the rough edges smoothed away. Great to have seen you on our home ground, clearly special.’

  ‘There is room, surely, for cooperation,’ Chail said.

  ‘Not so much “room”,’ Donald said. ‘There is a need.’

  ‘Yes, an obligation,’ Chail said. ‘This is what has brought Donald and me here together, Ralph.’

  ‘We have time,’ Donald said. ‘Given the state of things generally, we still have time to make a move towards takeover.’

  ‘If we make our move now,’ Chail said. ‘Believe me, Ralph, I am very aware of a breach of … well … protocol in our rolling up here unannounced, but it’s a matter of the circumstances.’

  ‘I share that awareness, though I’m from another region,’ Donald said.

  ‘But it’s to do with speed. Imperative,’ Chail said.

  They were standing in a circle, with Ralph nearest to the Low Pastures front door. He couldn’t recall having made a deliberate effort to ensure that was how the positions worked out. He thought it very correct, though, and very natural. The fact that he had not worked to give it that shape, just accepted it as deeply apt, satisfied him warmly. If he wanted to lead them all in, he could do it as a sort of inevitable move, like a corporal at a changing-of-the-guard ceremony.

  Donald was next on the left of Ralph, then Margaret and Chail. This meant that Chail was facing into the circle and towards Ralph. He approved this. It looked as if Chail realized it would be a gross mistake for him to believe he was the one who should start a progress towards the Low Pastures open door. His back was to the house and Ralph felt there was a submissive gaze towards him by Chail, an appeal to Ralph to cater for the next arrangement. Margaret was alongside the old Peugeot and Ralph disliked that.

  Ralph felt that any stranger looking in over the front lawns at the house would find the sight of the little group very comforting and sturdy, say like Bridge players breaking up after a session. Of course, that observer would not realize how crucial it was to note where each of the four was standing in relation to the others.

  Ralph didn’t play Bridge, but was fond of the notion of it, and meant to learn the game and join a club once he was not so busy. People often remarked on his inscrutability, when he wanted to be inscrutable, and he knew this would be an asset at Bridge. He could, though, certainly get rid of inscrutability on occasions under the hedge and similar lovely emotional joinings. Ralph had an idea people would guess that the very restrained aspect of Ralph often on show was not the total story. Most probably they would not be shocked to find them close under a bonny hedge, with Ralph really expressing himself.

  He might suggest to Margaret that she should join a Bridge club with him. He had to be careful: Ralph thought she was possibly cleverer than he was and that could become evident in a Bridge game. He might not look just deadpan but thick.

  ‘We recognize, naturally, Ralph, that you cannot regard this as the full expression of what it’s all about,’ Bernie Chail said.

  ‘Excuse me. What what is all about?’ Margaret said.

  ‘Perhaps you feel that despite our grouping, there’s one massive omission from our presentation,’ Chail said.

  ‘Manse,’ Donald said. ‘He ought to be here, shouldn’t he?’

  ‘Well, we’ve taken care of that,’ Chail said. ‘We were sure you’d agree to the invitation, Ralph, so we’ve asked him over. He had things to do but he’ll join us in a little while.’

  ‘That will help create a welcome completion,’ Donald said, ‘a fine fullness and strength.’

  Ralph felt amazed by the rapidity and boldness of what he heard. It was almost impossible for him to swallow these proposals and assumptions. God! They thought they could invite a guest to Low Pastures. True, the guest was a prospective close business contact, but not someone Ralph frequently allowed into his property. He felt he must grab back his status as host. ‘May I propose we go inside – a drink or at least some tea and a sit-down.’ He moved forward and then stood politely to one side and let Margaret go ahead. Ralph went next and then the other two. Ralph could not remember a time when people from a car as drab as that Peugeot went into Low Pastures’ main front door regardless.

  With a quick, decisive shuffle, Ralph took over the leadership of the little group from Margaret once they were into the house. Enough politeness. She’d understand. He thought the TV room with its hefty leather armchairs and a settee would be right for the meeting, if he thought anywhere in the property could be right, which, of course, he didn’t: he was caught in a kind of hold-up.

  He tried to get rid of the idea in his head that the occasion was symbolic. What it was was a couple of next-to-nothing nobodies being shown a lot more tolerance than they could have expected, unless they were powered by egomaniac greed. But this they were, weren’t they – intruders getting treated with some elementary humanity. They were visitors to someone’s home – admittedly an exceptional home, Ralph W. Ember’s, still a properly operational family haven. They were not by any means welcome visitors, but presumptuous, devious, arrogant visitors, but that was all. They were not a kind of message that the glorious Ember business era was nearing its end, or had already ended.

  In fact, though, Ralph had only poor luck in his attempt to keep things at a basic workaday level. He had known this was probably how it would be. He was Ralph W. Ember, yes, and Ralph W. Ember on his home patch, enclosed in excellent leather, but Ralph W. Ember didn’t necessarily control the talk.

  He thought they looked wrong for this superlative furniture. That didn’t make them blame-worthy. Many would have this shortcoming, male or female. They sat on the settee and chair as if they knew this was something temporary. Ralph felt that the way an arse accosted a seat cushion would tell you things. They were nervy. Ralph could sympathize with them. He, personally, hadn’t always been able to afford substantial leather.

  Chail sat alone on the settee, the others and Ralph in armchairs. ‘Shall I tell you what this is all about?’ Margaret said with a terrific, commanding grin.

  Chail uttered a tiny whoop of pleasure. ‘I told Don, didn’t I, Don?’

  ‘You said Mrs Ember would give a verdict, perhaps an unexpected one. She would grasp at once the way things are. You said she had that sort of mind,’ Don replied.

  ‘I’d never met her until today, but the word about her is around and all of it of a similar flavour: positive, full of admiration, favourable to a remarkable degree – envious, much of it.’

  ‘This visit is to do with Iles, isn’t it?’ Margaret said. ‘To do with Desmond Iles.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Chail said.

  ‘Huge changes likely,’ Don said.

  ‘A certainty,’ Chail said.

  ‘This is going to become like a different country. OK, I’m from another area, but I feel the tension here already, the expectancy,’ Don said. ‘Perhaps it takes an outsider to register the vast pending change.’

  ‘And that means there’s space for all sorts of new developments in this city,’ Chail said.

  ‘Sweetly affecting you and your companies, for instance?’ Margaret said, the grin as big as ever, but not a matey smile, a warning grin.

  Chail smiled: ‘I know you’ll have had over the years a lot of approaches like this,’ he said. His was a seeming congratulatory smile.

  ‘By the thousand,’ Margaret replied.

  Chail nodded: it was more congratulation, as it were.

  ‘And you’ve turned them away,’ Chail said.

  ‘By the same thousands,’ Margaret said, grinning. ‘They had nothing like enough to offer in exchange for our cooperation.’

  ‘You’d be making a formidable demand, as is totally understandable,’ Chail said, ‘and it remains just as understandable today.’

  ‘Absobloodylutely,’ Donald said.

  ‘But, yes, we can meet that demand,’ Chail said.

  ‘Absobloodylutely again,’ Donald said.

  ‘We wouldn’t be troubling you if we did not believe that of ourselves,’ Chail replied. ‘No, if we didn’t think that what we would like to propose is certain to benefit you as much as us. There’s a difference now from those other approaches that you’ve had, a major difference, isn’t there?’

  ‘Flux,’ Don said, ‘to put it mildly.’

  ‘You’ll see this very clearly, I’m sure, Mrs Ember, and you as well, Ralph.’

  ‘I don’t want to play guessing games,’ Ember said.

  ‘No, that won’t be necessary.’ Chail paused, grew weighty. ‘The difference between then and now is the total disappearance soon from this patch of Desmond Iles – his complete removal.’ He paused again, obviously to let this register fully on the Embers.

  ‘Yes,’ Ralph replied, ‘he’s got another posting. It’s promotion.’

  ‘It’s so much more than that,’ Chail said.

  ‘Much, much,’ Don said.

  ‘This is our gorgeous opportunity. It has to be grabbed and grabbed by us,’ Bernie said. ‘We have to crush potential rivals. It’s sad in a way that Iles felt he had to go, but for us it’s above all a positive. I’m talking merger, one brilliantly adept company – you, Ralph, Manse, Donald and myself, plus, of course, Mrs Ember, Margaret, should she wish that. Or perhaps you’ll object and say although Iles might be on his way, his sidekick, Harpur, will still be with us. True, but Desmond Iles is an assistant chief. That’s a very big rank – and he’s going to something bigger, of course, because he is known by others to have those unique qualities and is willing to transplant them. An ACC deals with policy. He or she has stature. Iles has enormous presence here. But I don’t have to tell you this. Harpur has rank as well, I’ll admit. It’s not in the same division as an ACC’s, though. Iles has splendidly helped hold matters together in these parts. It’s a kind of magic. Harpur’s not up to that. Simply, he hasn’t got it. He doesn’t need to feel bad about that. Hardly anyone has.

  ‘When Iles goes, his inborn skill at policy creation and preservation go with him. Chaos looms. I’ve seen it happen elsewhere, though not on the scale it would strike here, because a gap left by Iles can’t be equalled – he is unmatched and a vast loss.

  ‘But we note in the sand and gravel wharf murder what might actually be the beginnings of the coming disintegration, and that was only on account of rumour saying Desmond Iles might go. We know now it’s definite. We’re on the edge of break-up. We must get together, coalesce to make up for his otherwise disastrous absence. At this point I’d like to say a word about my friend, Donald. He is new to you, Mrs Ember, and to you, Ralph – other than those couple of minutes in the arcade. Don is a great student of the markets, and particularly our type of market, naturally. Because he saw very early on what was happening here, and what was due to happen, he dropped his other interests and got in touch with me. He did considerable research into our businesses, and into me.’

  Chail smiled another good smile. ‘Don discovered I’d become a dad and he reasoned, accurately enough, that my living costs were about to soar! Our new company will help deal with that for me, and things will be similar for you, Ralph.’

  ‘I have a proper business plan at home for our marvellous amalgamated firm,’ Donald said. ‘I’ve put in an option depending on whether you, Margaret Ember, would like to take a directorship, and we’ll keep a place ready and warm for that growing member of the Chail family, Egret.’

  ‘Thank you, Don,’ Chail said.

  Margaret waved a finger, like reproaching a child. ‘Very nicely expressed and thank you so much, Donald, for giving me an option on something that’s never going to exist. I couldn’t accept it, even if it did. Your business plan? Shite,’ she said. ‘What we have here is something Ralph and Manse Shale have lovingly created and nurtured. It is a feature of wonderful and enduring balance. We can’t have it disturbed. Other dealers realize that they have to stay comparatively small-time, not much above negligible.

  ‘Iles’s departure doesn’t affect the situation. His replacement here as ACC will be briskly but gently guided to the same sensible, decent arrangement. To be blunt, Chail, there’s no room for you, or you, Donald. It would be lunacy on our part to allow any change and to take part in it. I’m amazed that you have the gall to propose this.’

  It was the kind of reaction Ralph might have expected from her – might have, but hadn’t quite. He recognized a bravery and audaciousness about it totally beyond him. That could happen sometimes with Margaret.

  Ralph saw Don was infuriated by her words, especially the rubbishing of his business plan. He seemed to have been expecting automatic acceptance of his ideas and of him. Don stood, levering himself up from the arms of the leather chair, and seemed about to attack Margaret with a punch, battering or strangling to shut her up physically. That benign early glut of smiling stuff on their arrival meant nothing. The tone of moderation earlier meant nothing. The modest, grubby Peugeot was intended to get Ralph’s guard down and suggest mildness, harmlessness. Don glanced at Chail who gave a small nod, perhaps permission for the brutality. Maybe among Don’s attributes violence was included.

  Urgently, Ralph also stood, ready to defend Margaret. As he straightened, though, he found himself slipping into that robot-like, stupid, useless gesture – the pocket tapping in ludicrous search for the gun that was not there, though suddenly needed.

  But Donald was an outsider. He did not know about Ralph’s rampant distaste these days for handguns, nor about Ralph’s barmy, subconscious link to past habits. After only a couple of seconds, Ralph stopped the movement towards the imagined gun as he invariably did, but, very interestedly, he saw it was too late. Donald, obviously determined to defend himself, pulled out in a slick, quick action, what Ralph recognized as a Modelo automatic from a shoulder holster and was turning to blast Ralph when there erupted the booming crackle of a four-shot salvo from near the door of the room and Don, close to Margaret, slowly bent double where he was and fell helplessly, the beard soaked in blood and dripping on to his fine-quality shoes. Manse Shale came forward, stiff right arm pointing a Smith & Wesson pistol at Donald, inert on the ground, and kicked the Modelo away. Manse had on a grey pinstripe three-piece suit with fob-watch pocket waistcoat and gold chain, brown Ascot trilby, and radiantly white shirt with cutaway collar and plain, purple tie.

  ‘You OK, Ralph?’ Manse said. ‘That’s what I call timing. Wouldn’t you say so? I gathered it was something special and decided I’d better dress properly. This is the kind of person I am, isn’t it Ralph? You can vouch for that. I like to harmonize with my surroundings, but if those surroundings are a mess, as with the bearded dead one here, then I feel compulsion to correct the circumstances, restore serenity and true order. This wasn’t exactly the kind of special situation I expected, so a bit of adaptation was required. Chail, you can bugger off and don’t come back, ever. Your surname is too much like mine in sound and I’d hate to get mixed up with you. Think yourself lucky. Things are going to stay beautifully the same here. True, we’ll feel the absence of Mr Iles for a while, but the incomer will soon see the splendour of what the ACC has created – with, of course, the partnership strength of Detective Chief Harpur, and this successor to Mr Iles will be glad to carry matters forward in the individual style brought to us by our assistant chief (Operations).’

  TWENTY-TWO

  Harpur and Iles were in Harpur’s office again for one of their special character-building chats. Iles said: ‘I don’t think Manse will go to jail for long, if at all. He acted fast to save a life, didn’t he, Ralph Ember’s; or that’s what he thought and how they’ll plead in court. The fact that Mansel Shale is a widower could make a jury feel sympathetic. He might avoid prison altogether. Possession of firearm? But without a firearm he might not have been able to save a life. That’s how his case could be presented. It’s convincing, it’s virtually true.’

  ‘Ralph has let it be known that he and his wife would be prepared to look after Manse’s daughter if he was given a clink sentence,’ Harpur said.

  Iles said: ‘I heard this too. It’s very much in keeping with the way matters are conducted here. I’ll miss that sweetness and light, Col.’

  There were definite times when Iles seemed wonderfully and benignly in touch with the core of the community he served, and with humanity in general.

  Harpur had the secret opinion that Iles would have liked to be permanently of that refreshing nature but hadn’t got there yet. No, a good way off yet.

  ‘At times like this I tend to think of the well-known French poet, Col.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Harpur said. ‘I had an idea you’d be mulling along those lines, sir.’

  ‘Which?’ Iles said.

  ‘Which lines? Those from the French poet,’ Harpur said.

  ‘They can put their finger pretty decisively on matters over there.’

  ‘Which matters are those, sir?’

  ‘Life. Its aspects.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘The poet looks around him and is not too pleased at what he sees,’ Iles said.

  ‘I believe that would be true of most poets,’ Harpur replied. ‘“Jack and Jill”. Here’s another cracked head. There’d be plenty of rhymes for those two.’